While Tanzania has well over 120 distinct ethnic groups, many of them have one thing in common: they are of Bantu origin (Bantu refers to the language group; between 300 and 600 Bantu peoples have spread across the southern half of the continent). Though each group has unique traditions, there are some basic stories that appear again and again, whether the tribe makes its home in Tanzania, Gabon, or South Africa. One of those stories is…

The Tale of Sebgugugu the Greedy

Once there was a very poor man, Sebgugugu, who owned only one white cow and her calf. One day, when he was tending to the cow, he heard a bird call out from the trees.

“Kill the white one and get one hundred,” the bird cried.

Sebgugugu ran to tell his wife. “Surely this means if I kill the white cow, we will get 100 cattle in her place.”

She pleaded with him not to, since they needed the milk for their children, but Sebgugugu would not listen. He killed the cow and fed his family the beef.

Soon the food ran out, and no cows appeared in the white one’s place. But the bird returned, singing the same song.

“This must mean I should kill the calf,” Sebgugugu said, and despite his wife’s protests, he slaughtered the calf, too.

Soon, the family was hungry again, and now they had no cow to milk. Sebgugugu cried out in despair, and Imana, the creator, heard him.

“Sebgugugu, continue through the forest until you reach my kraal [a cattle pen]. You can drink the milk of the cows you find there, as long as you always share the milk with the crow who tends my flock, and never strike the crow or say rude things to it.”

So Sebgugugu and his family set out through the forest and soon found Imana’s own herd. For some time they were happy there, eating their fill every day and giving the crow his portion, but Sebgugugu could not be content.

“I will kill the crow,” he told his wife, “and our children will tend the cattle instead.”

She pleaded with him not to, but Sebgugugu would not listen. He shot an arrow at the crow, but the crow was too fast, and flew away. Sebgugugu looked around; all the cattle had disappeared with the crow.

Soon, his family was hungry again, and Sebgugugu cried out in despair to Imana. Imana took pity on him, and showed Sebgugugu where to find a magical melon vine, which grew not only melons but all kinds of fruits and vegetables.

“You may collect all that you need from the vine,” Imana said, “but you must not try to cultivate or prune it.”

Sebgugugu agreed, and for some time he and his family were happy. But Sebgugugu could not be content.

“I will prune away these branches,” he told his wife, “then the vine will grow even stronger.”

She pleaded with him not to, but Sebgugugu would not listen. He went ahead and pruned the vine, which immediately withered and died.

Forced to set off again, Sebgugugu and his family soon came across a strange rock in the forest, which poured forth grain and milk and corn from clefts in its surface.

At first, Sebgugugu was happy to collect the bounty of the magical rock, but Sebgugugu could not be content for long.

“I will split the clefts wider,” he told his wife, “then the food will come out faster.”

She pleaded with him not to, but Sebgugugu would not listen. As soon as he put his chisel to the rock, all the clefts closed up.

Then Imana came to Sebgugugu and told him that because he could not be satisfied, he must struggle on his own the rest of his days.

Every child who has ever read Aesop’s fables knows that the crow is smart but arrogant, the fox is sly but easily flattered, and the hare seriously needs to work on his time management. In many cultures, animals in folklore stand in for common human types, and certain animals reliably play a certain role: the clever trickster, the foolish oaf, or the cruel tyrant.

East African folklore is no different; in Tanzanian mythology, the following animals tend to get typecast:

The Hare = The Trickster

Trickster figures are a staple of folklore traditions all over the world; there’s something both instructive and viscerally satisfying about seeing a smaller, weaker, but cleverer creature defeat a strong (but gullible) opponent.

In East Africa, the hare fills this role, using his wits to not only defeat, but often to humiliate his opponents. Morally ambiguous, he might help another figure in the tale…or he may just be out to help himself. Occasionally, jackals stand in for hares in a similar role.

The Crocodile = Vicious and Violent

In East African stories, a crocodile is sort of like Chekhov’s famous gun: if you see one early on, expect it to go off (violently) by the end of the tale.

Symbols of destruction and cruelty, crocodiles are defined most by their selfishness. They may act nicely towards another animal in a story, but never without a self-serving motive.

The Hyena = Greedy & Shortsighted

Hyenas have long been (unjustly) reviled as scavengers, viewed in the west as foul grave-robbers and in East Africa as the helpmeets of witches.

Unsurprisingly, they rarely win in folktales. Though they’re often seen as clever, their greediness will get in the way, and their attempts at instant gratification often backfire spectacularly. Think of them as the Wile E. Coyotes of East Africa: just a little too smart for their own good.

The Lion = The Oppressor

They call him the king of the beasts, and like kings in fairy tales, the lion is often imperious, demanding that other animals pay him tributes, terrorizing villages, or otherwise throwing his (royal) weight around.

…which is why he’s often a particularly satisfying target for Hare’s schemes!

In reality, elephants’ intelligence is truly astounding; their capacity for reason, empathy, and long-term memory have all been well documented.

In East African folklore, however, their massive size and lumbering gait get them cast in the role of resident oaf. Hare often tricks simple, passive Elephant, even though Elephant has rarely done anything to deserve it.

Birds = Man’s Link to the Animals

In several African folktales, men speak directly to the animals in the story, but occasionally, they need help fixing their own problems.

That’s where birds come in. Whether they’re delivering helpful hints in a time of trouble, serving as a sort of guardian spirit, or acting as a go-between for two individuals who can’t communicate otherwise (one party might be imprisoned, say), birds are there to smooth the way for us.

Trust us on that one; a little bird told us.

Illustrations from The Project Gutenberg EBook of Zanzibar Tales, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37472/37472-h/37472-h.htm

Hundreds of cultures worldwide have legends of dangerous mythical demons, beings that locals swear exist, but which science has yet to conclusively document. The chupacabra in Puerto Rico and Latin America, the yeti of the Himalayas, and the Jersey Devil of…well, Jersey, all fall into this category of creatures; locals blame them for everything from livestock slaughter to human abductions, and despite the lack of proof of their existence, whispers and rumors of their evil deeds keep them alive in the darkest corners of the imagination.

In Tanzania, specifically on the islands of Zanzibar, the demon that haunts locals’ dreams is the popobawa, or “batwing.”

The earliest recorded sighting of the popobawa occurred in 1965 on the island of Pemba, though accounts of the creature popped up more frequently by the early 70s. While this may seem shockingly recent, many mythical creatures have relatively recent origins; the first chupacabra sighting only occurred in 1995!

A shapeshifter, the popobawa is said to take on both human and animal forms at will. It gets its evocative name, however, from the distinctive shadow cast by its outspread wings when it attacks. Believers say the creature is a djinn released by a sheikh seeking vengeance. Unfortunately for the Zanzibaris, the sheikh quickly lost control of his spirit helper, who then turned to evil ways.

According to believers, the popobawa will creep into your room in the dark of night and attack you in your own bed. Sometimes a sulfurous smell accompanies the creature, and occasionally it is heard on the roof, claws scraping, before it enters.

But a single popobawa attack isn’t the end of the horror; legend has it that if you don’t tell others about the attack, the popobawa will visit you again, staying longer and attacking more violently on each subsequent visit. It’s also particularly fond of attacking popobawa non-believers. Because it’s a jerk.

Since the earliest sightings, several “popobawa panics” have broken out, most recently in 2007 in Dar es Salaam (though the panic of 1995 was by far the most widespread).

Strangely, the sightings seem to happen in waves; dozens or hundreds of individuals will report being attacked in a given year, then the creature flies under the radar, essentially unheard of, for several years before appearing again.

Some skeptics—notably the SyFy channel television show Destination Truth—have tied these intervals to the Zanzibari election cycle. Panics occur predictably, and exclusively, in years when Zanzibari officials are up for election…then fade away until the next major election year. The show concluded that opposition party members created—and regularly revive—the myth of the popobawa as a political tool. Like so many savvy politicians before them, these officials, according to the show, are using fear to garner votes.

Whether it’s the product of an evil sorcerer or a cunning politico, the popobawa has taken on a life of its own in Tanzania.

So if you see the outline of dark wings against the night sky, make sure to keep the lights on…

They’re a symbol of good fortune…unless they mean your family’s in trouble. It’s taboo to kill them…unless an elder tells you to. The many myths surrounding the southern ground hornbill are often contradictory, but one thing’s for certain: this strange looking bird has a permanent perch in the African imagination.

Large and black, with eerie, raw-looking red skin around the eyes and throat sac, ground hornbills look a little like something out of a fairy tale…or a nightmare. Their appearance is even more unsettling when you take into account that the birds can grow to well over four feet in length, and generally travel in packs of up to 10 individuals, their black wings so broad that, looking up at a pack in flight, they briefly block out the sun.

Capable of living to 70 years in captivity, the birds are often strangely human. Breeding pairs are always assisted by at least two other animals (a sort of breeding apprenticeship that the hornbills must undergo if they’re to successfully breed later in life). Hatchlings are dependent on their parents for up to two years after birth, the longest period of any bird species. Even their faces seem anthropomorphized; they’re the only bird species to sport eyelashes.

These uncannily human traits, along with the booming, thunderous calls the birds use to communicate, make hornbills the focus of many myths throughout Africa. Many cultures consider the birds sacred. In these tribes, killing a hornbill is considered as grave a sin as murder, and doing so will bring down a deluge so great that it may wash your lands away in punishment.

Because of this belief—which is likely tied to the fact that in many regions, hornbills appear just before the long rains come—rain-doctors will sometimes ritualistically kill the birds in times of drought, attaching a stone to the body and throwing it into a stagnant pool in the river. According to myth, the birds are so smelly and unclean that they make even the lakes and rivers sick; sending rain is the only way the water can purge itself of these foul creatures, by washing them out to sea.

Besides being harbingers of rain (needed or otherwise), the creatures are considered accurate predictors of wealth. The spots where they feed are thought to be the best places to raise cattle, and are often sought out when new country is being settled. If a hornbill lands near your home, however, beware: unless it’s quickly chased off, a family member is sure to die (these beliefs may arise in part due to the ground hornbill’s diet, which often includes snakes; after a hornbill has visited pasture land, it may be safer for cattle, but seeing one near your home may be a sign of potential danger).

So are they good or evil? Should you avoid them out of fear, or seek them as a source of divine guidance?

Well that depends: how much do you like your windows?

Modern Africans are less likely to ascribe mystical powers to the birds than their forebears, but one hornbill behavior is indisputably detrimental to humans: their inability to recognize their own reflections.

If a hornbill sees itself reflected in a window, it will attack, convinced the reflection is in fact another hornbill (no wonder people are so afraid of them; their motto seems to be “attack first, figure out if it’s a real threat later). This has led to more than a few terrifying moments…and a lot of broken windows.

Which means the best way to make sure a hornbill brings you good fortune these days is to cover your windows with nets.

In fables from many different cultures, one animal regularly serves as a “trickster” figure. For Aesop, it was often a fox or a raven. In West Africa, Anansi, the spider, regularly fills this role. In East African fables, jackals or hares are known for their cleverness, as in this story of the trapper, the lion, and the hare.

One day, a trapper met a lion in the forest.

“Don’t you know I’m the king of the forest,” the lion said? “I have not given you leave to hunt here.”

“I did not know, great lion,” the trapper said, “please, tell me what I should do to make amends.”

So the lion told the trapper that from that day forward, the trapper could keep the meat off any animal he caught, but he must give the lion the tasty heart and liver.

This arrangement worked until the trapper’s wife became suspicious. “My husband must be giving the heart and liver to another woman,” she thought, and decided she would follow him the next day he set his traps.

The following day, the trapper went out, set his traps, then checked back to see if he’d caught anything. He found nothing in the first or second traps, but at the third, he found the lion, sitting next to his wife.

“Give me the heart and liver of this animal,” the lion said, “for that is our arrangement.”

“I can’t,” the man cried, “that’s not an animal, it’s my wife.”

The lion didn’t believe the trapper, and ordered him to cut up his wife, otherwise he would kill them both.

At that point, a hare appeared from behind a rock. The lion and the trapper told him their story.

“You’re right, lion,” the hare said, “this is not his wife. Follow me, and I will show you the proof.”

The lion followed after the hare, until they drew near the second trap. The hare stepped out of the way at the last moment, and the lion was caught up by his foot in the snare.

“Now run!” the hare shouted to the man and his wife, and they all ran away.

Eventually the lion got free, and went to the hare’s house, where he seized the hare.

“Be careful!” the hare shouted, pointing up at a boulder that was perched over the entrance to his house, “that boulder is falling and will kill us both!”

The lion let go of the hare, who immediately ran off.

The lion kept chasing the hare, who fooled him in different ways several times, until one day the hare came up to the lion and said “lion, I am sick of running from you. Now I would like to become your servant.”

The lion agreed, and ordered the hare to cook up his dinner. So the hare cooked up a tasty piece of fat.

“Open your mouth, lion, and eat.”

So the lion did, and he tasted the fat, and it was very good.

“Hurry up and cook the rest,” the lion said, “I’m very hungry.”

So the hare placed a large flat stone in the fire. When it was red hot, he said to the lion “open your mouth, lion, and eat.”

When the lion opened his mouth, the hare placed the hot rock inside. The lion swallowed, and the rock burned him up, killing him. From then on, the hare was free to do as he pleased.

The western world grew up with Grimm’s fairy tales and Hans Christian Andersen; in East Africa, different stories are told to children. Stories like…

The Lion of Zelabia

Once upon a time, there was a terrifying lion who lived on the island of Zelabia.

The lion was so terrifying, no one from the town of Shela, across the water from the island, would go there.

One day, a rich merchant offered a $100 reward to anyone who would sleep alone on the island of Zelabia. For a long time, no one would accept the merchant’s offer, because they were too afraid of the lion, but finally one man, who was very poor, accepted.

He told his wife of his plan, and though she was afraid for him, she agreed that they needed the money too badly for him not to go.

So when her husband left for the island, she went down to the shore and lit a fire, so he could see it from the shores of Zelabia and not be so afraid.

The next day, the man returned and went to the merchant to claim his money, but the merchant refused to pay, since the wife’s fire had kept the young man from being afraid.

The young man became very angry, and went to the sultan to tell him he had been cheated. But the sultan wanted to retain the favor of the rich merchant, and so he agreed with the merchant that the wife’s fire meant the young man had not earned his reward.

As the young man left the sultan’s palace, a wise man stopped him and asked what had happened. The young man told the wise man his story, and the wise man agreed it had been unfair.

“If I help you recover your money, what will you give me?” the wise man asked.

“I will give you one third of the money,” the young man answered. So the wise man agreed to help.

The next day, the wise man invited the sultan to his house for lunch. Before he arrived, the wise man told his servants to put all the food into pots, and to light fires far away from the pots, and not put the pots onto them.

The sultan arrived, and for many hours he and the wise man spoke, but no food was brought.

“Where is our lunch?” the sultan asked.

“It is not ready yet,” the wise man answered, “but I will tell my servants to stoke the fires and turn the meat so that it is ready soon.”

Another hour passed and still the sultan had not been served. Again he complained, and again the wise man told his servants to stoke the fires and turn the meat.

After another hour, the sultan was very hungry. Furious, he demanded that the wise man show him to the kitchens.

The wise man led him there, and the sultan saw that the pots of food were very far away from the cooking fires.

“You cannot cook food like this,” he bellowed.

“Of course you can,” the wise man answered. “It works in just the same way as the fire worked for the young man who visited you in court yesterday.”

The sultan immediately saw the sage’s meaning, and ordered his officers to tell the merchant to pay the young man. So the young man got his $100, and in the end, the wise man did not even take his part of the reward.

Thomson Safaris

Founded in 1981 and based in Watertown Massachusetts, Thomson Safaris has been handcrafting trips-of-a-lifetime for over 35 years. Tanzania is our only destination, and has truly become our second home. We’re excited to be able to share it with you through stories and features on our blog.